The Time In Between
by Kasey Clark
Summary: Set between Prince Caspian and The Voyage of Dawn Treader. Story dealing with the four Pevensie children and their attempts to settle back into normalcy.
1. Prologue

**A/N: **First off, I am following the book series, not the movie. I looked up the ages of the Pevensie children and their selected schools, but they were never specifically mentioned by C.S. Lewis. Therefore, I am using my own imagination and applying what I believe to be true. If you believe me to be completely off, please let me know and I will try my best to alter my work.

* * *

Blue. Blue and red. They were the only things that could be deciphered in the ball of fists and hurling bodies and fury. Amidst the group of young boys, stood a tall, lean boy with jet black hair and large eyes. Normally, a wide smirk inhabited his face, but at the moment he could do nothing but frown at the sight before him.

"Get off a me, you jerk!" screamed one of the boys involved in the scuffle. His lip was traced with blood and a large bruise was already beginning to form around his left eye.

"Why don't you make me, baby," the other male sneered. He was a slightly pudgy boy, with cold, gray eyes that cut into his opponent and showed no mercy.

The young boy wanted to step in, but knew that another interference would just escalate everyone's troubles. But he could not bear the images in front of him any longer; head downcast, he walked away from his classmates and his older brother and headed to his boarding room, where he knew his stationary was awaiting him.

His sister would become upset when she received the letter. She would scream in frustration, most likely. With less than a fortnight left of school until the winter holidays, she seemed to be more on edge and more susceptible to lashing out on her elder brother.

The boy was just signing his name on the letter when his door slammed open and shook the small frame of his room. Without turning from his desk, he said dejectedly, "There's a clean towel in my trunk, along with some disinfectant."

"You walked away." The groan of springs resounded as the newcomer took his rest on his brother's bed.

"Well, how many times do you want me to sit and watch?"

"You're my brother, you're supposed to support me."

The younger boy swiveled around, his cheeks beginning to flush. "Support you? You're seventeen years old and still picking fights after…"

Blue eyes locked to his gaze, challenging. "After what?"

There was an awkward pause. The muffled sounds of other boys could be heard in the hallway, their footsteps bouncing of the walls and echoing down the corridor. Both boys stayed locked in their silent challenge, one daring the other to say what both knew each other were thinking.

"After you decided to grow up and start acting like an adult."

There. He had said it. The accusation had been floating around in his mind for weeks. Dozens of times had passed, when he was treating his brothers cuts and scrapes, that he wanted desperately to slap him across the face and remind him that he wasn't a stupid boy anymore. That he had made a decision merely three months ago to become a man and take responsibility for his actions. It was out of love that he'd kept his thoughts to himself, but now the time had come to set things straight.

"Oh, and you're acting like a saint, are you?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "I'm not going out of my way to take my frustration out on innocent people."

A swift movement and the older boy was on his feet, looming over the other. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," the boy stood up in response. Although three years younger, he was still just inches away from being eye level with his sibling. "You're mad at the world for its unfairness. You're mad at me, you're mad at England, and you're mad at-"

Before he had an opportunity to finish what he was saying, a forceful shove sent him sprawling over his desk, knocking his letter to the floor and his pen rolling underneath the heating duct. Still caught off guard, he barely heard his brother's thunderous statement as he exited the room.

"It's easy for you to say these things. _You_ get to go back."


	2. Better Days

**A/N:** I must admit, when I wrote the prologue, I had absolutely no idea where I was headed. I knew I wanted to get inside the minds of the four Pevensie kids outside of Narnia, but wasn't sure how to go about it. But, don't worry! I had a really good idea come to me at work this morning, and now I'm set to take off with it. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

A freezing rain was pouring down onto the streets of England the first day of Winter break. It was the kind of rain that seeped through even the most durable coats and left its occupant without feeling and in a sour mood.

"I swear, Su, if you don't hurry up, you'll be carrying your own bags the rest of the way," a seventeen year old boy grunted. Both of his hands were gripping a large suitcase, but the water made the handle slippery and the boy was close to losing his fight in maintaining a steady balance.

A comely girl hurried forward, an umbrella the size of a small car covering her. "There's no need to yell, I'm right here."

Straggling behind the two were another pair of children, both male and female as well. They had on the red and blue blazers depicting their schools, and the youngest, a genial girl of twelve, had traces of mud on her shoes. The boy was the farthest back, walking sluggishly forward with both hands in his pockets and his black eyebrows were furrowed.

"Edmund! Come help me with this," the boy glanced up, startled by the sudden outburst of his name. He had been troubled for some weeks since his encounter with older brother. Against his better judgment, he had not sent a letter to his older sister, Susan. Instead, he shrugged of Peter's outrage and ignored his continuous bickering. He hoped that once safely with his family in the country and away from his classmates, Peter would wave off his bad disposition.

"Hello? Ed!" The boy broke away from his thoughts just in time to see Peter shoving luggage into the newly arrived train. Before he was able to rush to his brother's aid, though, his younger sister, Lucy, was there. She cheerfully handed off small parcels and began searching for a compartment for them all to hole away in.

Edmund looked on with a hint of envy in his stare. Everything seemed so easy for Lucy. It was easy for her to do what was impossible for most. To love, to not judge, to believe without questioning why. For her, life just _was_. She never had to worry about finding the words to say to someone who was hurting, she just had to take them in her arms and their worries would somehow disappear. Edmund knew that if Lucy had seen Peter fighting and heard his outburst, she'd have all the right words to dissolve his anguish.

* * *

Once all seated in a back compartment, it wasn't long before everyone's attention diverted to the one thing that binded them so close.

"Do you imagine the dwarves have had their First Winter's Dance yet?" Lucy asked whistfully. Images of the creature's celebration upon the first snowfall of the season sprang into her mind and remained there, a vivid memory of a past life.

Edmund smirked, "Probably, and if I know Trumpkin, he's probably hating every minute of it."

Giggling, Lucy replied, "Our dear little friend, he always seemed so set against anything cheerful."

Next to Edmund, Peter let out a long sigh and focused his attention on the passing scenery outside his window. Lucy, noting his lack of participation in the conversation, pointed it out to her oldest brother. "Now, Pete, you always had such a good sense of the weather, how do you suppose it is there?"

Peter snapped towards Lucy. "Well how should I know? In case you forgot, Lue, we're in England." Peter regretted the statement as soon as he saw Lucy's face shadowed with hurt. Secretly his favorite, Lucy held a special place in his heart, and he never meant to be so brash with her.

"Peter's right," Susan glanced up from an arithmetic book. "There's no point in discussing that place right now."

"_That place_? That place?" Edmund blurted. "It has a name you know!"

Susan rolled her doe-like eyes. "Oh, Ed, don't overreact. I was merely suggesting we talk about something normal. You know, something in _our_ world."

"Like what?" Edmund's pale face was beginning to flush from anger. "Books, jobs, the latest car model?"

"Anything's better than dwarves and centaurs and swords."

As Edmund crept closer to the edge of his seat, Peter tried his best to tune them all out. They hadn't been together five minutes before an argument began. And, just like everything else, it centered on Narnia.

It took him by no surprise at all. It seemed like all the four children could do anymore had some connection with that country. _Their_ country. Peter had heard countless recallings of their royal lives, and almost every time they ended in a dispute concentrating on trying to figure out how to balance both lives.

"…and if you think I'm gonna put up with that…you're disgracing your friends, you are!" Peter came back to attention just as Edmund was about to stand up and start real trouble. He knew, as the eldest child, it was his job to break them up. The old Peter would have swept between them and reminded them all that they needed to act like themselves. That true kings and queens did not bicker and quarrel over silly things. The old Peter would have cracked a joke that would have broken the tension and restored them all to their old selves.

But the old Peter was gone. Now, all he had left of himself was grief and bitter jealousy that burned a fire in him so intense, he never could seem to stifle it.

"Stop it! All of you!" Lucy cried. Looking around, she tried to hid the tears forming in her eyes by blinking rapidly, but all three were not fooled.

Ashamed, Edmund bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Lucy."

"Why are we always fighting? Narnia's supposed to be like a haven."

Susan attempted to grab Lucy's hand, but the girl recoiled, still too upset to be comforted. "It is Lucy, but you have to understand-"

"No, _you_ have to understand! I've seen the way you act at school, Susan. You parade around like you've completely forgotten Aslan."

"Nobody's forgotten him, Lucy. I'm just trying to move on with my life, is all."

"She's right, you know," Peter leaned forward. He had intended to remain quiet, but seeing his sister in such distress broke his heart. "You see, Susan and I have to move on, Lucy. Narnia's just part of our past. We can't dwell on it forever."

Lucy's tears had now breached the surface and were rolling down her cheeks in a silent downpour. "You have no room to talk, Peter. You're the worst one of all."

Instead of arguing with her, Peter silently agreed. He sat back in his chair and allowed his long blonde hair to cover his eyes. He had nothing else to say to any of them at the moment, for he distanced himself from his own emotions so much that such conversation was nearly foreign to him. The others, watching their unspoken leader give up on not only the argument, but his youngest sister as well, all followed suit and sank into their own corners of the compartment. The woods rolled past their rainy window and the scene began to shift from a downtown metropolis to green countryland. All were hoping the time alone with each other away from the hustle and bustle of city life would magically evaporate the last three months they spent trying to adjust.

However, as each of the four closed their eyes and imagined themselves back in their home, their country, their _world_, they also realized how difficult it would be to spend a holiday together without wars and battles, mail suits and arrows. They had all spent so much time learning how to successfully debate a Calormenes, that they had forgotten how to play cricket with their own parents. And, worst of all, for two of them, they'd never be able to get those moments back.

The rest of the train ride was spent in silence.


End file.
